


Ain't No Rest For The Wicked

by amanofpenrose



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Panic Attack, Paranoia, Slow Build, Superhero!AU, Unreliable Narrator, high school!au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amanofpenrose/pseuds/amanofpenrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he wished for his life to change, surely he had not in mind running away from his home because the government was after him. Then again, he got to meet new people! Like the dude who lives in various dimensions, the guy whose actual body is yet unknown, the man of many useless prophecies, superman himself and, apparently, a phoenix. He is not sure what all of that yet means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stretched Linen Over Contorted Bodies

**Author's Note:**

> First fic here. It's gonna be a long one.

When he first saw it, it was in class. He was mindlessly taking notes on his notebook, when he looked up to gaze at the substitute teacher to give the impression that he was actually interested in the lesson. What captured that interest were, however, two red lights near the door. He squinted his eyes, looking intensely at the mysterious lights. They were a blur in his mind, like he could and couldn’t see them; they were there, but his eyes couldn’t focus on them, just like they were the shadow left by bright lights on your retina. He’d spent the remaining twenty minutes just studying the red glow, just wondering what they were and totally forgetting about the teacher’s explanation. He didn’t give it much thought, mostly because he didn’t see them in any other class after that. Actually, he had forgotten about them when he met his friends at lunch. However, when he sprinted into his house basement after school, the red lights were there, in the darkest corner of the room, just beside the keyboard. He froze when he’d saw them turning away from his desk, curiosity and uneasiness rising up in his stomach. It was weird, he walked right in front of them: they were as high as his eyes and watching them resulted just as difficult as before, like he was trying to look intensely at something in a dream: they were there, he knew they were there but his mind could not process what was in front of him. He tried to touch them, floating in mid-air, but his fingers went through them and he came to the conclusion that they were not, in fact, lights but just a variation of color in that spot. That was the most legit conclusion, since the lights didn’t actually shine. He just ignored them; he didn’t know what that was so the best thing was to just live life as usual. He’d actually tried to ask the girl sitting next to him in English a few days later if he could see “those red spots near the door”. She said no, furrowed eyebrows, and he thought he was going crazy. They gradually started to appear wherever he was: in every class, in the gym, at home, in his room. He felt more and more uncomfortable, like the lights were actually two red _glowing eyes_. After three weeks, he’d grown accustomed to them, managing to just live his normal life and not mentioning the weird stuff to anyone. Things took an unexpected turn during a very stressful week, when homework was overflowing, practices were tiring and the family was tense. He’d spent half of his morning trying to not fall asleep on his desk and walking in the hallways like a zombie. His friends were just as tired, especially the ones on the basketball team. When he stepped into math, he moved his gaze from his feet to his seat, but he found it taken. He stopped dead in his track, and some guys bumped into him. They cursed and walked past him, reaching their seats. Someone, _something,_ sat on his chair: the shadow of a body, a darker shade of color limited by a silhouette eerily similar to his own. Where there should’ve been eyes, two glowing red spots stared at him.  
«Tyler?»  
He snapped back into reality when a hand touched his shoulder and he automatically jerked back, looking at the teacher with wide eyes. She looked worried. Tyler looked back at the rest of the class, which stared at him with curios and worried looks. Someone in the back was snickering in malice and the shadow flickered.  
«Are you all right?»

Tyler looked back at the teacher, blank expression. _Something is sitting at my desk_ , he wanted to say, _I can’t sit there_. He wasn’t even sure she could see it.

«Can you go sit, please?» the teacher said, worry in her voice and annoyance in her eyes. _She can’t,_ he thought. His stomach dropped and he felt lightheaded, his legs suddenly very weak. His throat clicked and his eyes started to burn; he looked back at his desk, and he could clearly see the glowing eyes piercing his mind. His breath hitched in his throat and, without a second thought, he turned on his heels and ran through the door. That was the last drop. Exhaustion, stress and now that thing; he couldn’t take it anymore. Thoughts raced in his mind while he ran into the empty bathroom, closing himself into a stall and falling on the filthy floor. He tried to steady his breathing, clutching his neck. Tears rolled down his cheeks and he started crying desperately, hands grasping his hair and hiccups echoing in the room. He didn’t exactly know why he was such a mess. Sure, he was so stressed every time he passed a hand through his hair, he’d lose small chunks; he’d slept so little he’d walk to school every morning wishing a car could hit him so that he could spend time in a hospital bed; he was so tense for his family, that looked just as stressed as he was. He was stressed because he was stressed. And now, he was seeing things. He hugged his knees, burying his face in the crook of his elbow. The door of the bathroom creaked open and Tyler silenced himself with a hiccup. He tried to convince himself that it had been just a trick of his tired mind, ignoring the voice in the back of his consciousness that reminded him that he had been seeing those eyes way before he felt so stressed.

«Tyler?» _Mark_. Tyler sighed and wiped his face on the sleeve of his hoodie. He pushed open the door, without sitting up; he felt his body slowly melt on the floor out of exhaustion. Mark towered over him, holding the door open. He looked at him with pity and, as much as he wanted to, Tyler didn’t smile like usual. His friend crouched and Tyler hit the back of his head on the wall, closing his eyes.  
«What’s going on?» he asked in a way that already gave off his understanding. Mark knew how stressed Tyler was, and he was pretty sure only Tyler didn’t know how actually tired Tyler was.  
«I’m just stressed» he answered, his voice feeble. Mark scoffed and that made Tyler glare at him.  
«Dude, you’re always stressed.» he retorted, «but you’ve never broken down like that» he added, worry pouring out of his words. Tyler mumbled, closing his eyes again.

«And as much as I find running away from math class very relatable» he scoffed, sitting up and readjusting his shirt, «that worried the heck out of me. You need to go home and rest, Tyler»  
His voice was stern; it sounded more like an order than an advice. Mark pulled him up from under his arms and quickly hugged him before putting an arm around his waist to help him on his legs. Tyler wanted to protest, he wanted to tell Mark that he couldn’t do that: he had basketball practice. However, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was falling asleep on his knees, leaning on his friend. They walked out of the bathroom without another word. Tyler’s thoughts were fuzzy, unclear; he didn’t want to talk to Mark about _the thing_ , not that he couldn’t trust him; he just wasn’t ready to face the reality of the situation. 

He never thought that he was any different from any other teenager, meaning that he had had his fair dose of depression and anxiety was a constant in his life. However, hallucinations were something else. He just hoped it was because of his tired head, but he couldn’t scratch away the sinking feel in the pit of his stomach. He retrieved his backpack from Mark, shyly waving at him after he told him to call later to let him know how he was feeling. He sneaked to his car, kind of enjoying the quiet silence spread across the parking lot. It calmed him a bit. He got in the vehicle, dropping the backpack on the passenger seat and turning the engine on. He gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. _Do not think about it_ , he told himself. What exactly _it_ referred to, he wasn’t sure anymore.

When he got home after a fairly short and uneventful ride, he entered the empty house dropping his bag on the floor in front of the entrance and yelling a “ _good morning_ ” to no one but the walls. His brothers and sister were at school, same thing for his parents but in the role of teachers. The idea of having the whole house for him was appealing, but the puffing sensation behind his eyes reminded him why he was home earlier than usual. He slouched to the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water. He mentally reorganized his day, still ignoring the pressing thought at the back of his head. If he fell asleep in a few minutes, he could take a nap lasting a couple of hours. He could then call Mark as promised and then complete his homework just in time for some basketball practice. He ran up the stairs and into his room, but then again he froze at the sight of who, _what_ , was sitting on his bed. He backtracked and closed the door just as swiftly as he ran in and he stood in front of his door for a few seconds, his eyes tightly shut. _Nothing is in there_ , he whispered to himself, _you’re just tired. Please just go in and don’t be there_ , he pleaded to the blurry figure. He took a deep breath and turned the handle, ignoring his shaking limbs. Thinking of finding _it_ still sitting on his bed, that’s where he looked. He definitely didn’t expect to find _it_ right in front of him, too close. He screamed in horror when he realized that the red bulbs were a few inches from his own eyes and he shut the door again, this time running down the stairs –almost tripping to his death– and sprinting in the basement, locking the door behind him. The rational part of his brain told him that a locked door was not going to be useful against a hallucination, however he had already made a fool of himself by screaming at what probably was empty air to an outside viewer. Locking the door was just for superstition. Thank God he was alone at home, that would’ve been harder to explain than that one time him and Zack tried to illustrate to their father the concept behind the _This is Sparta_ meme. He skipped some steps down to where there was an old couch. He jumped on it, hurriedly covering himself with a few layers of blankets, covering his face as well. He shut his eyes tightly, letting some tears slide across his face and on the couch. His heart was beating unhealthily fast and he could feel his adrenaline quickly dropping to its normal level, leaving in his body an unpleasant sensation of emptiness. He hugged himself, digging his nails into his arm. He tried to put away all the thoughts, all the worries; he just needed to sleep. And he did: after a few minutes he had dozed off, his eyebrows furrowed and his body was still shivering. He dreamed of something he couldn’t remember, except for the eternal presence of blurred silhouettes. When he woke up, it was to an arrhythmic pounding on the door that he had, in his half-slumber state, mistaken for drums. He hazily sat up on the bed, feeling no more refreshed than before. If he had to be sincere, he’d use a few more hours.  
«Tyler, are you in here?» a high-pitched voice asked, trying to pry open the door by violently shaking the handle. Her voice was panicky and Tyler confusedly looked at the door, then at the clock left on the floor beside his desk. It was almost three in the afternoon. He mentally slapped himself: Madison was meant to come home with him. He rushed out of the tangled covers and ran up the stairs. He unlocked the door and it immediately swung open right on the boy’s face.

«Tyler!» yelled Madison, showing almost no guilt in having gently hit her brother’s face.  
«Madison…» Tyler mocked in a less panicked voice, rubbing his cheek. She pulled him out of the basement by his shirt and looked him up and down, making sure he was okay.  
«I got so worried! I had to ask for a ride to Beth, why didn’t you tell me you’d be leaving early?» she whined, «Why did you even do that? Are you okay?»  
His brother rolled his eyes, a smile creeping up on his lips. _‘m fine_ , he mumbled when Madison inspected his arms. He sighed.

«Really, Maddy, I’m fine. That was like two–» he begun but was interrupted by the rumbling noise of feet running down the stairs. Zack appeared from behind the wall and looked at Tyler with a shaken expression.

«Dude» he huffed, «what the heck did you do?»

Tyler stared at him, then looked at Madison who was as confused as him.

«I… slept?» he tried to say, cautiously looking at Zack. It was like he’d seen a ghost. He shook his head.

«In our bedroom.» he added and Tyler couldn’t help but feel both his brain and stomach sink at the thought of a certain shadow.

 

It was a mess. What was once on a shelf was now on the ground, everything scattered around like it had been thrown out of sheer anger to the opposite side of the room. Zack’s bed had been undressed of its covers that were eerily hanging from the ceiling lamp, looking like a suicidal ghost. The only thing that had remained spotless was Tyler’s own bed, which looked way out of place in the Hell Gate that their room had become.  
«Did someone break in?» Madison asked in a feeble voice, crouching down and picking up some things that were scattered on the floor.

«I don’t think so. Nothing is missing» said Zack, «and why would anyone make such a mess and leave Tyler’s bed untouched?»

Tyler could clearly hear the accusation in his voice, but he was too taken aback to even reply. His sister, however, looked at Zack with thunderbolts in her dark eyes.

«Zack, don’t you dare–» but she shut up. Tyler couldn’t see the glares they were sending each other, mainly because he was lost in a spiral of madness. His eyes were lost across the room and his mind was in a totally different dimension. Zack scoffed suddenly, storming out of the room. Tyler watched him leave, not quite listening to what he was muttering between gritted teeth. Madison sighed in defeat.

«I didn’t do it.» whispered Tyler. She caressed his arm, trying to comfort him

«I know» she said, looking at the mess in front of them. Tyler didn’t believe her. «But do you know what happened?» she asked anyway. Tyler appreciated that. He wanted to tell her about _it_ , tell someone it was not his fault. He had been seeing things and, even if uncertain, he thought those were hallucinations. The eyes, the shadow, that blurry figure– it was nothing but a figment of his twisted mind. But now? He was lost at sea. He could clearly remember encountering the thing and then running away, but what was in front of him rationally screamed something else. A part of his brain told him that he’d totally lost his way, but another part actually considered legit the idea that no, he was not hallucinating. Worse than that, a demon was probably haunting him. But that was impossible. He rubbed his eyes, leaving his hands slightly pushing his eyes in their sockets. He used to do that when he was young; he thought he could see the stars. Right now, however, all he wanted to see was surely not creepy shadow messing up his life. Madison gently rubbed his shoulder again and then she left. He let his arms fall to his sides, letting his eyes wander off in the uncertainty of what he had in front of him. What he knew for sure was that he needed some answers before anything else, but he also knew that he couldn’t do that by himself: he would’ve lost his mind. He hurriedly took his phone out of his pocket, quickly typing a number.

«Hey Tyler, how are you fe–» a cheerful voice answered but Tyler was quick to interrupt him.

«Mark, I need to talk to you about something» he said, ignoring how his voice sounded broken and feeble. Mark was silent for an instant.

«Sure, dude» he said, concern hidden behind his words. «Do you want to come over? My parents aren’t home»

«Yeah, I just need to take care of something first.» Tyler looked at the room, reaching for a strand of hair on his head and twisting it. When he heard the sound of the door opening followed by the unmistakable voices of his parents, he quickly closed the call, pondering for a few moments the idea of just throwing everything that was scattered on the floor under his bed. _Screw it_. He’d take care of it later. He kicked everything that was his under his bed, running in the bathroom to quickly wash his face; and when he saw his reflection in the mirror he could swear he had seen a glimpse of red in his irises. But nothing was there, except for the redness of the veins in his sclera and the deep, purple bags under his lashes, hidden behind his already tanned complexion. He stared at himself for a few moments, thinking about how he was going to Mark’s, then he’d come home to finish his homework and maybe, _maybe_ he’d be able to shoot some hoops. He already felt shattered.

_One thing at a time, Joseph_ he thought in the same exact tone his mom would say it. He shook his head; he had another priority now, and it was to understand what was going on with that shadow; _with his mind_. He tried to not feel guilty at the thought of avoiding his chores; guilt would just deepen the bruises under his eyes and in his mind. He ran down the stairs and down the door, yelling a “I’m going out” at the last second, so that no one could stop him and ask him anything. He walked away, towards his friend’s house under the worried gaze of his mother Kelly.

«Madison?» she called, turning away from the window and walking towards the stairs. Maddy appeared on top and leaned on the handrail.

«Yes?»

«Is there something wrong with Tyler?»

Madison averted her eyes from her mother’s and mumbled a “no”. Kelly grumbled, unconvinced.

«Maddy, why did Ty–»  
«He went nuts again» said Zack passing by. Madison shouted at him, but he ignored her and plopped down on the coach, turning on the TV. Kelly looked at them both sternly, her eyebrows furrowed in an inquisitive expression.

«He did not!» Madison yelled and then turned to her mother. «I think he came home early because he was really tired.» she nervously twisted her fingers.

«Yeah, and then he wrecked my stuff.» added Zack in a monotonous voice. Madison ran down the stairs, furious at her brother’s smug attitude, but her mother grasped her arm and stopped her from doing him any arm, sighing loudly.

«Can you _please_ » she pleaded desperately, pulling Madison in the living room and letting her sit on the coach beside Zack, «tell me what are you two talking about?»

She took the remote from her son’s hand and he rolled his eyes, sinking back in the couch and watching the screen go black. Madison looked at her lap, fingers still twisting and pulling. When none of her sons answered, Kelly huffed.

«What do you mean, Zack, when you said that he… “went nuts”?» she stared at the gloomy figure that was slowly disappearing in the cushions. He sighed and straightened his back.

«Ok, so. We come in the house, yeah? Tyler already wasn’t at school anymore, so we asked for a lift to Beth. First thing I see when I step in? Tyler’s bag on the floor. I say that’s just great» he started telling, laughing bitterly at the thought of the baleful memory of some years ago that popped in his mind. «Madison calls him but no answer. She says to me “go look in your room” and he was not there! But you know what I found instead? Every single thing of mine on the floor. And Tyler’s. Everything was wrecked–»

«I was really worried…» whispered Madison, but Zack ignored her.

«My bed was wrecked too! Like the covers were on the ceiling lamp and stuff, but Tyler’s bed was all right. Not a scratch.»

Kelly looked thoughtful.

«He said he didn’t do it.» added Maddy, looking at her mom with a pleading look. «He was in the basement, asleep. He couldn’t have done it!»

«Did someone get in?» Kelly was quick to ask. They both shook their heads.

«Nothing was taken and windows and doors were closed shut.» Zack cleared.

«Why was he in the basement then?»  
Madison shrugged.

«He was locked in there.» spat Zack. «Because he’s wrecked the room.»

Kelly really hoped he was wrong. Why would Tyler do such a thing? He really hoped he wasn’t feeling sick again. She sighed. She needed to talk to Chris.

Meanwhile, Tyler had arrived at Mark’s house, who had eagerly let him in, asking him how he was feeling and if he needed anything. Tyler just shrugged, letting himself fall on the couch, face down. Mark sat on the coffee table in front of it, rubbing gently Tyler’s back. They stayed like this for some moments, until Tyler turned around, facing the ceiling, no emotions displayed on his face.

«I have to talk to you» he said all of a sudden, «about something» but then again he let time run by. He didn’t know how to introduce the situation to Mark, mostly because “ _hey, I’ve got a demon – slash – hallucination following me around and messing up my room and my life. How crazy is that?”_ probably wasn’t the best way. The tension slowly building up was also not helping him.

«Dude» said Mark after a while and the sudden shift in the air made Tyler snap out of his thoughts and look at him. He looked a bit embarrassed. «Are you, like… coming out or something?»

Tyler’s _what?_ echoed in the empty house.

«Dude, no» he said, eyes thinned in suspicious slits and eyebrows furrowed. «I’m not.»

Mark shifted awkwardly on the glass surface of the coffee table.

«Oh, okay» he breathed out, «but like, if you ever– uh, like…»

«Mark, I have another kind of problem that is not coming out. Not that I’d need coming out— not that it is a problem!» Tyler said feeling a bit worked up.

«Okay, okay. Nevermind. Are you sick?»

Tyler paused, and Mark furrowed his eyebrows. He began telling how he’d started to see things when school had started, and his voice was shaky and unsure. How those _eyes_ would be wherever he was, and how that morning they were accompanied by a dark silhouette. Mark just listened, staring at him intensely.

«Tyler, this sounds a lot like…»  
«Hallucinations? Yeah, I know» he said, sitting up and messing his hair, «but then, I saw _it_ again at home today. And I had to sleep in the basement because _it_ was in my room. When I woke up, _my room_ was a mess. _It_ has destroyed my room!»

Mark was silent and Tyler sighed, staring somberly at a vague point in space, waiting for his friend to say something.

«Are you sure it wasn’t–»

«It wasn’t me. I know what I saw.»

«But you said…»

«I know what I said!» Tyler yelled, wincing at his own reaction. Mark did the same, leaning away from his friend. Tyler sighed again, rubbing his eyes. He felt really tired. He looked up to apologize to Mark, his only best friend who was trying to help him despite Tyler being an emotional mess.

But even then, there _it_ was. Standing behind Mark, its red bulbs staring at him. Tyler’s eyes widened and Mark looked at him in confusion. He followed his gaze and turned around, eyes meeting with the opaque surface of his TV.

«It’s there» Tyler whispered and stood up, walking to a bookshelf on the opposite wall of the room and facing away from his nightmare. He didn’t hear Mark move. «It’s right behind you» he added with a twisted sense of entertainment hidden behind his words; that did not feel right. Anyway, he heard Mark whisper “ah. Oh, shit” accompanied by the sound of steps coming closer to him. Tyler started twisting a chunk of his hair with his finger, keeping his head low and his eyes shut tight. A few seconds passed and he heard Mark shuffle uncomfortably beside him.

«Tyler, you’re scaring me» he muttered and Tyler’s head twitched. He turned around and his eyes met the thing’s.

«Do you have some paper?» he asked, and Mark looked around.

«Wait, I’ll go look in my room» he said and hurriedly walked away. Tyler stiffly walked back to the couch, eyes not moving from the figure, which was becoming less and less fuzzy.

They stared at each other and Tyler ignored the unsettling feeling enveloping his brain. He took from Mark’s hand a lined piece of paper, where on the top there was the beginning of an unresolved math problem. He fished Mark’s pencil case from the bag abandoned on the floor next to the couch. Mark watched him intensely, spying behind his shoulder: he saw him take one of his black pens, one of the only ones that still worked and Tyler brutally snapped it in two, letting ink pour on his hands. Mark gulped, but didn’t say a thing; he was already used to Tyler being extremely weird when lost in thought. He smeared said ink on the piece of paper, and Mark recognized a messy figure being drawn.

«I’m not good at drawing, sorry» Tyler muttered. Mark thought he looked like a careless kid playing with paint. Except that was not paint, Tyler was not a kid despite the look, and he definitely was not careless anymore. He consumed his other black pen, and his red pen (this time without snapping it), looking up where his TV was every once in a while. He then turned to him, hinting him to give a look at his messy masterpiece. Now it was Tyler’s turn to stare at his friend and study his expressions. He moved a bit to let Mark sit in front of the drawing.

«It’s the thing» he cleared up, already sensing a “what is this” forming on Mark’s tongue. «Kind of.»

He absentmindedly rubbed his neck in a nervous habit, ignoring the red bulbs piercing the side of his skull and leaving traces of black ink on his skin.

«So, it’s like what– a ghost?» Mark talked, finally, and Tyler looked at _it_ and shrugged.

«Kind of. More of a shadow?» he tried, still unconsciously smearing ink on his neck, before Mark swatted his hand away and Tyler just huffed. «I imagine a ghost to be less… cloudy.»

«These are its eyes, right?» asked his friend, pointing at the red messy ink scratches surrounded by prints and smudged lines of black. Tyler nodded, looking back at Mark.

«They’re also blurry. Its whole face is blurry. It doesn’t really look human.»

«A blurry face. Alright, man» Mark said, dropping the sketch on the table and leaning back on the couch, turning to look at his friend, «I don’t know what to tell you.»

Tyler sighed, leaning back as well.

«I don’t know either. I needed to talk about it with someone. I’m– it’s going to get worse. I don’t know what it is and I’m kind of scared.» he admitted defeated, «And I am sure I didn’t throw all my stuff on the floor, even if it makes no sense since I was the only one home?»

He stood up once again, stretching and then he stood still, looking at the thing.

«But I can feel it… changing? It’s like a shifting sensation on my own skin. And if it can pick up things and throw them around, nothing assures me it’s not going to kill me or something.»

He walked around the table and shakily lifted up his hand, moving it towards the shadow’s “chest”. Mark just stared at him. It wasn’t the first time he tried to touch it, and every time his hand just went right through it. They were extremely close and, when Tyler looked up, he felt shiver run down his spine at the sight of the too close, too red blurry eyes. He tentatively moved around. He paced the room with his eyes locked on the figure, risking to trip many times when walking backwards.

«Do you know the Mona Lisa?» he asked all of a sudden and Mark made a questioning noise, «How her eyes follow you wherever you go?»

«Please, don’t say it. That’s too creepy» sighed Mark burying his face in the back cushion of his couch.

«Its eyes follow me wherever I go. It’s weird»

«Can you control it?»

«What? I don’t know. I don’t think» said Tyler, sitting back on the couch.

«Why don’t you ask him?»

«Yeah, _ask it_ nicely and maybe chat about the weather. Perhaps offer _it_ some coffee.»

Mark mumbled something about being nice, but Tyler cleared his throat anyway.

«Can you–uh, hear me?» he asked the shadow, and in response its left eye seemed to glitch out of its spot and appear where its chin should’ve been. Tyler jumped away from the couch, whining almost disgusted and Mark jumped too, asking in panic what had happened.

«Its eye, it glitched– what the hell» he cried out, crouching behind the couch and hitting his forehead on it. Mark tried to stop him, taking his face and stopping it from hitting the back of the sofa again.

«Dude, calm down!» his friend said, «It can do no harm when it’s under my roof!»

_That’s not really reassuring_ , thought Tyler but he took a deep breath anyway and looked back at the shadow, whose eyes was still glitching, disappearing from one spot to appear in the other et vice versa.

«Try again, ask it to write or something.» suggested Mark, undeniably scared yet intrigued by whatever was going on.

Tyler did ask, but then he tensed up and in Mark’s field of vision, one of the pens Tyler had scattered on the coffee table lifted up by itself and, next thing he knew, he was out of the door, yelling in disdain, followed by Tyler.


	2. Lawsuit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> «Bl– Wilson, he was picking at a kid. I couldn’t stand and do nothi—»  
> «You could’ve called a professor.»  
> True, he thought. He shook his head and let it drop. Once again, the circumstances showed him he wasn’t able to keep control. His mom massaged his shoulder.  
> «Tyler, dear,» she started, «this is not something you would do. What is going on?»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why did they have to hold hands?

«If I have to be honest, I really just thought you were crazy right there.»  
«Yeah, I’d have thought the same if someone came to me and told me they were seeing things.»  
«So… what is it actually? Is it a demon?»  
Tyler sighed.  
«I guess. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the cherry to top off the mess that is my life. A demon.» he huffed.  
«Don’t be so hard on yourself, Ty. I have to go. Tomorrow morning we’ll talk about this, okay?»  
Alright, he said, and closed the call. He looked over at his homework that was pulling him and poking his brain in an incredibly depressing vise, but he didn’t really want to get up from the bed. He still felt really tired and the idea of ditching school flashed in his mind. He knew that would make him feel extremely guilty —my parents did not raise me like this— and he had a feeling that the blurry figure would haunt him more than usual; but at the same time, not having to wake up at six to attend classes he’d sleep in anyway felt so relieving.  
«Are you here?» he hesitated, eyes lost on the bland ceiling of his room. There was no sound, but he knew it was there. Eventually, he lifted his head from the pillow and the thing was on the opposite side of the room, where it was less lighted up, staring at him.  
«Can you, like… not stare at me?» Tyler asked bitterly, but received no answer. They stared at each other until Tyler dropped his head on the bed again, huffing angrily.  
«What are you?» he asked, no response. «Can you speak?» he urged again looking up at the thing. It didn’t move. It was creepy.  
Tyler pondered of something, then he leaned towards his bedside table and he retrieved from the drawer a white, plain mask with two holes where the eyes should’ve been.  
«I use it in theater» he felt the need to explain, then he launched the mask to the thing. «Put it on.»  
It didn’t move. Tyler sighed in annoyance. He was stuck with a demon that would not talk to him and would wreck his stuff out of sheer annoyance? Great.  
«Come on, you freaking blurry– blurry face» he muttered through gritted teeth and letting his head fall forward on the mattress. «Just put it on. Your face is creepy.»  
«Tyler, are you talking to yourself?» Tyler jumped up at the sound of his mom’s voice coming from behind the door.  
«Or I could be on the phone.» he retorted without hiding the sarcasm. Half-truths.  
She apologized with a smile in her voice and left. He turned back to the shadow, that had in the meantime picked up the mask and –if Tyler had to guess– he was probably inspecting it. While still staring at Tyler. He gestured him how to put it on –it was a demon after all– and it imitated him, putting the mask on his face.  
It just made its face look less inhuman, yet it was somehow creepier. The red peeked through the eyeholes, and Tyler felt glad that its eye wasn’t glitching anymore. He sat in silence, mindlessly staring back at the white mask. He had the impression that the mask was losing its density as well.  
«Who are you?» he asked again, this time with more confidence.  
«Who are you?» the shadow answered back and Tyler gasped, feeling his muscles tense up. Its voice was deep and distorted; muffled as well, like it was in another room.  
«So you can t–talk» he was a bit scared. It didn’t move. It stood still, his mask somehow less fuzzy. «Do you know what you are?» Tyler tried again.  
«Do you know what you are?» it mocked again, this time stressing the you as if to tease Tyler, whose eyebrows furrowed in confusion.  
«I’m Tyler.» he said almost out of spite. Why was this shadow so smug?  
«I’m Tyler.» it said, and Tyler was on the verge of stepping off the bed and kick the shadow’s face. But he kept calm, prying on his curiosity.  
«No, you’re not Tyler. I am Tyler.» he paused, expecting the shadow to say something. When it didn’t make a sound, he continued. «If I am Tyler and you are not, who– or what– are you?» A few silent moments passed.  
«A blurry face» it said after a while. Tyler almost laughed. «Mark calls me that.» it added, and Tyler felt the laughter impulse die down immediately.  
He was about to say more, when the door opened and Zack peeked through, glaring at Tyler. He definitely didn’t think that maybe they could hear it, then again they couldn’t apparently see it.  
«Are you talking to yourself?» his brother said and Tyler felt his cheeks grow warmer.  
«I was practicing some lines» he lied without skipping a beat. If theater had taught him something, that was how to lie convincingly. Which was ironic, seen that he did theater with the kids from the church. Not that all of them were sinless. Zack however didn’t look convinced, but that was probably because he still thought Tyler was lying to him.  
«Mom wants you in the kitchen» he said and left, leaving the door open on his way out and Tyler could feel the weight of unresolved problems on his neck. He’d have to talk to Zack eventually. He shot a last glance to the now empty corner before jumping down the stairs, waving to his dad in the living room and entering the kitchen. His mom was sat at the table, a bunch of papers scattered around. She looked up, still counting numbers in a whisper. He waited for her to finish whatever grown-up task she was attending to.  
«Can you tell me what happened today?» was all she asked, looking at him with piercing eyes. Tyler couldn’t stand that look, so he stared at his hands, nervously rubbing his palm, following the natural creases. Her mom did not scare him (not anymore, at least), she certainly was intimidating because she was a teacher; but she always made him feel insecure even about the little things.  
«I got home early. I’m not feeling too great» he just said, hoping her mother would just understand. She stayed silent, waiting for him to continue. «I slept. When I woke up, Maddy and Zack were home and for some reasons–» he hesitated, «my room was a mess.»  
Kelly leaned back in the chair, her small eyes trying to see past Tyler’s half-truths.  
«Have you done your homework?» she asked.  
«Well, I tried, but…» Kelly hummed.  
«I guess you’re not going to practice later, then?» she said, «Nor to school tomorrow.»  
He nodded, feeling relieved and guilty at the same time. He knew her mom’s tone was inciting him to say something along the lines of “no, mom, I am incredibly fine and even if I was borderline dead I’d go to school!” and that usually worked, but he really felt the need to stay home; mainly because he needed to chill, but he wanted to understand more about the shadow. And then he’d tell Mark. Her mom stood up, walking over to him and hugging him.  
«It’s okay, Tyler. I know how school can be stressing for you, but if you ever feel the need to talk to someone, remember that friends go, but family stays.» she told him, planting a long kiss on her son’s forehead and then letting him go. He knew what she was referring to, but he didn’t want to argue. His mom probably still thought he was a problematic kid. And that’s what he pondered when he sat on the couch, beside his father. Was he going to tell his family what was going on with him? Tell them that something was haunting him. What if it decided to hurt him? Maybe his mom and dad could help him? However, what if he didn’t find a way to show what he had shown to Mark just a few hours prior? Would they lock him in a mental ward? Well, in retrospect, that did not sound too bad if he could avoid school.  
«How are you feeling, kid?» his father asked, ruffling Tyler’s hair. He smiled fondly and Tyler leaned in the touch, staring at the TV. He made an uncertain sound in the back of his throat and Chris looked t him questioningly.  
«Eh» said Tyler, «I just want to rest. I think I’m going to bed after dinner.»  
Chris looked at him.  
«Rest as in sleep or rest as in…?» he questioned and Tyler frowned.  
«I just need to sleep.» he whispered and Chris relaxed.  
«You know, I worry» his dad muttered and Tyler nodded, whispered thanks, got up and left. On the stairs he was met with red eyes and a blurry mask that he promptly avoided, before realizing that Maddy, on top of the stairs, had just watched him stare intently at nothing for a long moment before carefully avoiding a random spot on the stairs. His eyes widened and he looked down in shame as he passed his sister.

The next day, Tyler woke up to the sweet sound of nothing. No alarms blaring in his ears, no brothers or sister shaking him awake and no sound of rustling. Light shone through the window, shining softly on the walls and lighting up also the darkest of corners. He sat on the bed, rubbing his face trying to scratch away tiredness from behind his puffed eyelids. He stretched, getting up and exiting the room, taking his phone with him. There were some messages by Mark and he read them while getting ready to take a shower.  
Dude you could’ve told me you weren’t coming today, sad face.  
Tomorrow math test, you better come, she said if you miss it, you fail everything.  
Someone just ran out of English class. Are you sure bluffyface is exclusively yours?  
I swear to god I’m going to run from English too. How the heck is this sub so energetic in the morning? Where did they find him?  
Tyler chuckled and quickly typed out an answer, and then he jumped in the shower. His mind was amazingly clear and Tyler enjoyed the shower without drowning in his worries. He ate breakfast scrolling mindlessly on his Facebook feed, not really paying attention to his friends doing stuff or sharing local news or photos of their dogs. Maybe he’d study math, later. Bluffyface was nowhere to be seen, and Tyler hid to himself his own disappointment. His curiosity was gnawing at his nervousness and he didn’t realize his leg had started to bounce nervously. He tried to think about organizing this day, but nonetheless, his mind unconsciously drifted to the thing. Did it appear randomly? Or was there some logic, a trigger, perhaps? Why was he the only one able to see it? Why did it kind of look like him? What was it, exactly?  
He didn’t see it. He swore he could almost feel its presence, but it wasn’t there, and if it was, it wasn’t visible. He studied, cleaned up the mess under his bed and even played around with the keyboard his mom had given him two years prior; but the fuzzy figure didn’t appear. And it didn’t when his family came back, when he went to basketball practice in the afternoon, when he studied some more after dinner, it didn’t appear when he went to sleep.

«You should’ve come to school» Mark told him and Tyler eyed him curiously.  
«Why?» he asked and Mark shrugged, adjusting the straps on his shoulders. «No, really, why?»  
«I feel like it makes more sense for it to appear at school. Don’t ask me why, my brain is processing stuff but I can’t keep up» he muttered, gesturing at his temple.  
Tyler closed his locker.  
«Do you think it appears randomly, though?» Tyler asked, starting to walk towards their first class.  
«I have no idea, Tyler» he sighed «It first appeared at school, right? And then it changed form at school, so I guess…»  
«But then it changed again at your house.»  
Mark fell silent.  
«Maybe you’re changing it»  
«How?» Tyler furrowed his eyebrows and curiously eyed his friend.  
«I don’t know, dude! I’m trying to use logic where there is none!» his hand shot up in the air in more frustration and Tyler just looked at him, blinking sheepishly.  
«Are you okay?»  
«Yes, yeah, just stressed. You’re not the only one having to deal with school and life in general, sadly» he said and Tyler chuckled.  
«You should be glad you’re not haunted.»  
Mark thought about it and then nodded, coming to the conclusion that yeah, at least he was glad for that.  
«You don’t seem much worried by it.» noted Mark, and Tyler’s half smile faded instantly.  
«I don’t understand what it does. Actually, it does nothing but kind of… stand» Tyler looked around, searching for a familiar shadow just staring at him between dozens of walking students. There was nothing. «Still, I can’t help but be afraid.»  
«Dude, I am already impressed that you’re not, like, freaking out twenty-four-seven for that thing. I would be. Screaming, probably.» he huffed. «Twenty-four-seven.»  
«Believe me, I don’t know either how I’m surviving this.»  
He was about to say something else, but his train of thoughts was brutally stopped when, just a few feet in front of them, someone shouted. Tyler saw a group of people slowly form around someone he couldn’t see. Tyler and Mark glanced at each other, and before Mark could stop him, Tyler hurried towards the group. He elbowed his way to the front of the small crowd, recognizing one of his teammates, Wilson, terrifyingly towering over a slouched body pressed against the wall of lockers.  
Tyler knew Wilson was kind of a bully: he stole money, threatened people to do homework for him, and had punched at least twice every single person in the school. Nonetheless, like any stereotypical bully, he had his issues, but Tyler could not stand him. Not even the slightest. However, he was his teammate and he had had the luck to be kind of invisible when it came to bullying; but if he had to stop him, he’d do it without second thought. And so he stepped in between the two guys. For the sake of the team, he was going to try to avoid any violent confrontation, keeping also in consideration that, despite being taller than Wilson, he was way less well-built. There was a reason why he avoided him during practice.  
«Wilson» he sighed.  
«Joseph» Wilson said, frustrated and annoyed, turning on his heels in a defeated gesture. Tyler turned to his back, glancing at the hunched dude leaning on the lockers. He looked scared and confused.  
«What are you doing?» he asked, and Wilson scoffed.  
«Dude’s new, I was just teaching him a lesson.» he said and Tyler rolled his eyes. He turned around and patted the kid’s shoulder, hinting him to just walk away. He seemed reluctant.  
«He’s got my money…» he whispered and Tyler noticed he had an English accent. Perhaps he was part of the exchange project. That somehow irritated him more. The bell rang, but no one moved.  
«Wilson» he called again, and saw a glimpse of Mark planting a hand on his eyes in exasperation, «can you please give…» he looked at the boy. Dan, he whispered. «Dan– his money back?»  
Some people chuckled. Okay, maybe he was being too straightforward, but he was pretty sure nothing bad could happen. There was the mutual “I will pretend you don’t exist if you pretend I don’t exist” between them two, and breaking that meant it was going to be awkward, but not violent. Except it was, because that was Wilson and not a smart kid with manners, and as Tyler turned his head to face the bully, he landed a punch straight on his eye.  
Chaos erupted. Tyler was not the kind of guy that would so eagerly punch back– he wasn’t even sure what part of his brain convinced him that putting himself at risk like that was a good idea– but he punched back. One time, two times, many times, until his knuckles started to bleed and swell up and his face broke under the pressure of Wilson’s hits. His hands didn’t even feel like his when the English sub conveniently found them in the corridor and separated them both, panting and bleeding kids fueled by anger. Again, Tyler wasn’t even sure where that anger came from. He had felt like a puppet right there. The sub shouted something at them both, but Tyler’s ears were ringing annoyingly, deafened by pain, and he was too busy staring at Wilson rabidly. He got shoved away from the crowd between angry mutters and curious whispers, and he didn’t even notice Mark trot behind them along with Dan. His mind was foggy.

«Tyler, what the hell where you thinking?»  
«Dude, that was amazing!»  
«Why would you even try and fight back?»  
«Like, I’ve never seen you land any punch like that»  
«Mark!» she shouted, and Mark flinched.  
«Yes, Mrs. Joseph ma’am.» he said, looking at her in embarrassment. She frowned, and then looked back at Tyler. He was holding an ice pack on his face with his left hand, covering his eyes from the scolding look of her mother. He’d been silent since the professor had divided him and Wilson, throwing punches and kicks at each other furiously, through the lecture the headmaster had given him and was now giving to his teammate.  
«Mark, leave us alone for a couple of minutes, will you?» she said, and Mark obliged, taking his bag from the floor.  
«I’m going to class» he said to Tyler, but received no answer. When the corridor was clear and silent, Tyler heard his mother sigh. He lowered the ice pack, keeping his eyes low.  
«What is wrong.» his mother sternly asked, but Tyler could see the worry in her eyes. He hesitated.  
«Bl– Wilson, he was picking at a kid. I couldn’t stand and do nothi—»  
«You could’ve called a professor.»  
True, he thought. He shook his head and let it drop. Once again, the circumstances showed him he wasn’t able to keep control. His mom massaged his shoulder.  
«Tyler, dear,» she started, «this is not something you would do. What is going on?»  
Tyler just sighed. He tasted the blood on his lip, and his cheekbone felt numb. His right hand was on fire. When he looked up, he recognized that look her mom would have when she just knew.  
«Oh no» he muttered «I didn’t do it.»  
Kelly’s eyebrows knotted together.  
«The room, I didn’t– I didn’t do it. There’s nothing wrong.»  
She just hummed, and then she cupped her hands on his cheek, looking at him with sad eyes. They stayed like this for a few seconds.  
«I think I need a hospital» Tyler said after a while, and Kelly just seemed confused. Tyler lifted his right hand, which was slowly swelling up and turning purple-yellow. She gasped. Of course he had broken it. He was no professional puncher, so his index and middle finger were probably destroyed. He tried not to think about how disappointed his parents would be when they’d realize he would not be able to play basketball for at least a month. He also tried to resist the urge to rub his face with the broken hand. Kelly pulled his forearm, trying to help him get up from the chair near the headmaster’s office door. When it opened, they froze in spot, watching Wilson get out of the room with furious eyes followed by his mother, a short and buff woman with wrinkles that made her look like she was constantly angry. Well, she probably was angry, according to the tension pouring out of the room they had just exited. Wilson stared at Tyler, who stared at him back. Tyler tried his best not to show the fear that squeezed his brain at the stare-off.  
«Come on, Ty» Kelly huffed, tugging Tyler with her and hurrying down the corridor. Tyler gave one last glance at his teammate, and again he turned around when he was just about to disappear behind a wall. He was alone, standing in the corridor, eyes lost on the wall in front of him. Tyler slid away from his mother’s grip, who just walked away, and he stared at Wilson. Something was off. Something was next to him. Whispering in his ear.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe this much time has passed? If you know me, yes you do believe. If you don't know me, have you ever thought about the fact that twenty one pilots are slowly making their descent into hell? Give it two years.

**Author's Note:**

> Why is it "bear with me" and not, like– "raccoon with me"? Who decided this?
> 
> @ehytherejay on the twitterverse.


End file.
